


Even A Broken Clock Is Right Twice A Day (All Of The Ways The Avengers Have Wronged Tony) Part III

by Thementalistlover2013



Series: How To Whump Tony Stark (AKA: Anything & Everything Tony) [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, F/M, Feelings, Forgiveness, Hurt Tony Stark, Insecure Tony, Insomnia, Long Shot, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Regrets, Team bashing on Tony, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Whump, insecure natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:18:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5631304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thementalistlover2013/pseuds/Thementalistlover2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 3 of 6 of Even A Broken Clock Is Right Twice A Day (All Of The Ways The Avengers Have Wronged Tony).</p>
<p>Iron Man yes, Tony Stark...not recommended.</p>
<p>Everything the man had done since being inducted into the team as Iron Man had proved her report different, it made her a liar, a bitch. </p>
<p>Natasha remembered the moment she had typed out those words: Iron Man yes, Tony Stark...not recommended.</p>
<p>AKA: Natasha has been wrong for a while, and it's finally time to let it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even A Broken Clock Is Right Twice A Day (All Of The Ways The Avengers Have Wronged Tony) Part III

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Cursing, Admitting Defeat, and Mild Violence.  
> Title borrowed from a quote by Stephen Hunt. I own nothing but the idea. 
> 
> Hey guys! This is my second series, so before you read it, know that I hope you'll enjoy! There was a plot bunny nipping at my toe, and this is what came out of it: Five fics based around the team being wrong about their assumptions about Tony, and one where they were completely right. This is Natasha's portion of the story. Also, warnings will be posted before every installation because some of the topics mentioned are sensitive. If it triggers you, or you simply don't like it, then please, DON'T read. 
> 
> Anyways, the stories are completely unrelated, and usually just involve Tony and another teammate. Don't forget to comment/review, kudo, and subscribe to the series! More to come!
> 
> Note: The Russian (which is questionable, I'm obviously barely adapted to the English language) used in the story means 'baby brother' (hopefully), just in case you're like me and can't speak Russian (unfortunately). I'm not going to go into it, but if you read some of the comics (spoilers), Natasha and the serum and blah blah. She's older than what she looks like. Cool? Cool.

 

~*~

The Black Widow had a lot to mull over as she grasped at sleep, many things to regret, hundreds of lifeless eyes and broken ties; it all kept her awake at night, sprawled on her bed in the seemingly peaceful Stark Tower.

That's what - or who - had her attention at the moment, _Stark_.

The man who had invited them all over to live with him - expense free, mind you - directly after saving the world by flying into a portal with a nuke, _moments_ away from blowing up.

That could've qualified as the definition of a 'team player', and that's what had Natasha frustrated; with herself, with Stark and his fucking _plethora_ of masks.

It's why she was roaming the quiet halls at three in the morning, reveling in the silence, using it as a grounds to beat herself up over her mistake.

Iron Man yes, Tony Stark... _not_ recommended.

Everything the man had done since being inducted into the team as Iron Man had proved her report different, it made _her_ a liar, a bitch.

Natasha remembered the moment she had typed out those words: Iron Man yes, Tony Stark... _not_ recommended.

Her fingers had hovered over the computer keys, trepidatiously and maybe even doubtfully.

The Black Widow wasn't hesitant, not then, not now, _not ever_.

But Natasha? She was only human, a human with Red Room serum and training, sure, but underneath the black suit, it was Natasha. Just like Tony and Iron Man. Natasha seriously didn't know how she _hadn't_ caught the relation.

When her fingers had revolted against her, placing tiny picket signs right in front of her eyes, she'd been more than a little worried.

She realized now that it had been her gut telling her that she was wrong, that even though she'd hated some of Stark's masks _he was_ Iron Man, and there wasn't one fucking difference between the two.

One expressed his feelings through heroic acts while the other used cheesy pick up lines and sarcasm.

The authentic Tony was framed in the suit, because there, he didn't have any facial expressions, nothing to give away what he was actually feeling - he could hide, do good, and make it seem like it was just his duty. Outside of the armor, the man used any defense he could to bridge the gap that the suit had left.

Natasha hadn't seen this before, and it left her angry knowing that the man had inadvertently tricked her for so long by just being his defensive, psychologically scarred self.

Natasha was punching the nearest wall, fist going through paint and dry wall, reemerging red and angry.

She took a much needed breath, because if Tony was Iron Man, then _she was_ the Black Widow.

Natasha felt her heart clench.

She had killed people. Not the Black Widow alone. It had been the two of them, working as a team.

Both parts of herself were ruthless and cold.

Natasha calculated the strength it would take to actually damage her hand and drew back, slamming into the wall once again.

#

Tony awoke to the sound of heavy pounding behind his head.

It was reminiscent of those times he'd spied on the team in the gym, when they would train and hit things, or even each other.

Tony was always invited by a stern faced captain, but he would never go; he couldn't let them _all_ see his weaknesses, even if Natasha had already known about his wonky heart and thirty percent decreased lung capacity.

Somehow the thought of Natasha brought him back to the pounding that was currently behind his headboard. He remembered the rhythm that she was fond of, the _punch, pause, punchpunch_ of her fists as it pounded into whatever punching bag she'd chosen as her victim that day.

Tony sat up. He lived alone on this floor. The 'bots were all charging in the lab downstairs, and he was completely positive he didn't have a gym behind his bedroom when he'd gone to sleep.

Well, he had _attempted_ to sleep. Tony had been awake for five hours before finally succumbing to unconsciousness.

Then, a mere hour later, he was awoken by what sounded like an attack on his bedroom wall; that, or a really dull mosh pit.

Tony swung his legs over the side of his bed, looking up at the ceiling, making a face to one of Jarvis's cameras that said _what in the actual fuck?_

"Sir, it seems like Agent Romanov is in distres-"

Tony bolted from the bed, stark naked and half asleep as he threw on a robe.

He didn't wait for Jarvis to finish speaking as he slid out of the room, around the corner, and towards the sound of the ruckus.

Tony felt Natasha's fist before he saw the woman herself.

#

"I'm sorry, Stark." Natasha murmured to the man, who was sitting up on a stool at the breakfast bar, opposite his attacker, an icepack pressed to his bloody face.

"'S Tony." The shorter man smiled behind the ice, the one he used to win over stiff board members, which let Natasha know that he _was_ in pain. "And 's okay."

Natasha hummed, not really believing the man as she looked over his fluffy white robe, now covered in crimson, "Sure, but are _you_?"

Tony rolled his eyes, gesturing to the patch of holes in the wall a few feet away from them. He cringed when he turned his head too quickly, feeling dizzy and nearly toppling from his perch. Natasha reached over the counter to steady him, knuckles throbbing. Tony sent her a thankful look before swallowing down his stomach, regaining his bearings.

"Personally," Tony whispered softly, licking dry lips, head pounding as Natasha dug through the medkit that she'd pulled out from on top of the fridge. "I believe I should be asking the human hole puncher."

Natasha glared at him, looking down at her bloodied hands and shrugging. "It's not my fault that the captain has ruined every punching bag-"

Tony matched her glare, and clenched his jaw, gritting out, "I'm _working_ on it."

"in this entire place." Natasha finished, knowing that that was a lie, and that Tony could see right through it. The assassin quieted, taking out some gauze and a few pain killers. "And I know you're working on it, Sta-"

"Tony."

" _Tony_. Thank you for the new gadgets, but really, you've done enough."

Natasha held out two pain killers to the man, who froze, looking dazed and concussed but also a little panicked.

She realized her mistake before he had to intercept, and simply smiled apologetically, placing the two white tablets down on the counter. She pulled two cups from the rack on the counter and filled them with tap water, all while Star- _Tony_ , she reminded herself, swallowed the pills dry.

"Why were you on my floor? I mean, I don't mind, as long as you're not trying to plot against me-"

Natasha glared, but it was in good nature. Tony was always rambling, and it made her smile inside.

"and stuff. I just." Tony looked bewildered, shrugging gently. "None of you ever come up here, I didn't even know you knew where I slept, but of course you do, you're _you_ -"

"Tony?"

The man looked up from his mutterings, smiling sheepishly at _her._

Tony had never smiled at her (he'd smiled at Ms.Rushman, but not at Natasha, the Black Widow). They seemed to be getting closer, that, or Tony was more injured than she thought; the redhead glanced over his worn face, the dark circles under his eyes, framing orbs of chocolate. He looked conscious enough, and God knows the man had worked under _worse_ circumstances.

Natasha just wished he'd sleep, and it felt odd to her, the rush of worry and care she'd felt for Tony.

"Yup?"

"Stop talking, you're giving _me_ a headache, and I'm not the one who just got manhandled into the floor."

Comfortable silence filled the space, and Natasha sipped on her water while Tony gnawed at a hangnail. Finally, with hesitance, he spoke up.

"You never actually answered my question though."

Right, Natasha nodded, because she didn't _know_ the answer herself. What had possessed her to wander through the tower, only to be led by some unknown force to Tony's bedroom wall?

"I'm not sure." Natasha muttered out, shaking her head and grabbing the gauze she'd set out. The assassin went about wrapping her hand, Tony staring at her from behind his ice. "Just dealing with stuff."

Tony looked a little fearful that the _stuff_ happened to include him.

Natasha looked down uncomfortably, when was the man ever going to stop being afraid of her? Could he even trust her? He surely had no reason to, but Natasha was set on giving him one.

"Listen," Natasha reached a bruised hand over to Tony, stopping short when he flinched, looking extremely tiny in his giant robe. Her heart was clenched in a blanket of guilt. She pulled her hand away as he avoided her eyes. "I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes the sheets are too soft to be from anywhere but here. It pulls me back to all of those times I betrayed your trust or reported things about you. But I need you to understand that it was my job, and I know you now, the real you. I'm not an undercover operative anymore, I'm just me-"

"I don't hate _you_." Tony finally whispered, holding the cup of water in front of him like a shield, looking completely exhausted and withdrawn. Natasha met his eyes, nodding once, sipping from her cup.

"But you don't like me either."

Tony replied immediately, calm and quiet, "I never said that. I never said anything. I'm sorry you're so good at reading people to know when I'm uncomfortable around you. And I know you had your job, or whatever, and I know there's always going to be someone like you around, it's part of me now, and it's _scary_ -"

Tony inhaled deeply as Natasha's arms wrapped around him from over the bar, his head cradled in the nook of her neck. He raised his hands slowly, his mind automatically reminding him it could be a ploy, she could _choke you out-_

Then he remembered the look on Natasha's face when he told her that he didn't hate her.

It had been so vulnerable and raw, and it hurt him because she really wasn't here on a job, they could be friends, real honest to God friends.

Tony hugged her back with one arm, the other hand still supporting an icepack to his face.

"You should _never_ be afraid when I'm around, младший брат."

Tony closed his eyes, relaxing into the warmth of her shoulder before she gently pulled away.

Tony's eyes lit up and he grinned, swallowing down the squishy feelings welling up inside of his chest. "I really hope you didn't just call me _asshole_ in Russian."

Natasha's shook her head, a small teasing smile on her face. Tony nodded, humming a bit in thought. Silence filled the space again, and Tony licked his lips, a serious look on his face.

"You want me to trust you, right?"

Natasha nodded, looking as though that was the dumbest question he could've ever asked.

"Then take this." Tony handed her the glass of water she had made earlier, left hand a bit shaky. "And give it back."

"You want me to hand you something?" Natasha asked, a string of awe in her voice. Tony nodded once, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He held out his hand.

_It's just a glass of water, the same harmless glass you were drinking moments before._

Natasha pushed the glass into his hand, and slowly Tony managed to wrap his fingers around it and pull it back.

They did this over and over again, all while Natasha looked over Tony, completely shocked by his show of trust, his forgiveness. Surely if someone had betrayed her so many times, she would've made it so they wouldn't have the opportunity again.

Natasha handed the cup back to Tony, who had his eyes open now, a flush high on his face; they were going to be okay, no matter how long it took.

Iron Man yes, Tony Stark... _ ~~not~~ _ recommended.

~*~

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Have a lovely day. (:


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